


Peer Pressure, Love, And Other Dangerous Things

by doesaugustisgay



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Genderfluid Crowley, M/M, Peer Pressure, aziraphale's name is hard to say, eventual fluff and angst, not relevant yet but it will be, teens being mean to each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 22:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doesaugustisgay/pseuds/doesaugustisgay
Summary: Crowley was not what you might call a model student. Not anymore.Aziraphale, on the other hand, was an honor-roll student with multiple extracurriculars and, according to almost all his teachers, a very pleasant attitude.On the surface, Aziraphale was unlike Crowley in nearly every aspect.





	Peer Pressure, Love, And Other Dangerous Things

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of doing my math homework! I hope y'all enjoy it!

Crowley was not what you might call a model student. Not anymore.

It was a story as old as time itself- a "gifted" child gliding through his early years of school with no trouble, finding himself at a loss for what to do when he finally runs into trouble, and finally giving up, drifting away from his old friends, and falling in with the wrong crowd.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, avoided that fate. Aziraphale, instead, was an honor-roll student with multiple extracurriculars and, according to almost all his teachers, a very pleasant attitude. He was a library aid, president of the chess club, and an occasional contributor to the theatre department. He was raised Catholic, and had (mostly) stayed religious. On the surface, Aziraphale was unlike Crowley in nearly every aspect.

\---

On the first day of their senior year, lunchtime came. Crowley was, as he often had in past school years, sitting next to two of his friends- Hastur and Beelzebub.

(Beelzebub was not the name she was given at birth. As for Hastur, however, that was his real name. His parents, apparently, simply had strange tastes.)

Hastur, Beelzebub and Crowley, among quite a few others, were considered troublemakers, part of the student population the school officials liked to pretend did not exist.

On the other side of the cafeteria, some students were beginning to walk around, holding clipboards, talking to anyone who looked mildly interested, occasionally writing down names.

"Oh, looks like they're doing club sign-ups today." Crowley said through a mouthful of food.

Beelzebub barely glanced up. "Oh, goody. Don't make eye contact with them, I don't want them to come over here."

"I'm actually thinking of joining a club this year, y'know." Crowley said, and his friends chuckled. "No, I'm not joking, guys," he continued, "I hear Anathema is heading a tabletop RPG club this year, it sounds sorta fun."

"Anathema? Oh, right, that girl. Weren't there rumours going around last year that she's a witch?" Beelzebub replied.

"Yeah, that's her."

"I'm pretty sure she is a witch." Hastur chimed in.

After a short pause, Beelzebub said, "Witches aren't real, Hastur." She sounded somewhat dumbfounded.

"Not the "flying around on broomsticks" kind, I know that's not real, she's Wiccan." Hastur replied, clearly offended that Beelzebub thought he was just that stupid.

Crowley came to Hastur's defense. "He's right, you know. She-"

Unfortunately, their rousing conversation was interrupted when a boy holding a clipboard approached their table. He was average height, and somewhat fat, wearing mostly white. Crowley recognized him- he sat behind this boy in math class last year, and probably wouldn't have passed the class if he hadn't been glancing over his shoulder for the answers all the time.

"Hello," the boy greeted them with a friendly smile on his face, "Would any of you like to join the chess club?"

Silence followed. The boy continued smiling, though now looking somewhat nervous, while the three stared him down.

Finally, Crowley spoke. "No thanks. I think we're good, uh…" _shit, what was his name?_ "... Asriel?"

"Aziraphale," He responded. He didn't seem too hurt by the misnaming. Perhaps he was used to it. He continued, "Well, thank you anyways, Anthony." Crowley visibly cringed at the rare use of his first name- which elicited a small chuckle from both of his friends- as well as being embarrassed that Aziraphale managed to remember _his_ name. "If you change your mind, you can sign up anytime today or during our first meeting. Thursday, in the library."

As he was turning to leave, it seemed his eyes lingered on Crowley for a few seconds.

Once he had walked away, Hastur gently elbowed Crowley. "He was checking you out, dude."

Crowley felt himself blush. _Dammit._ "No, he wasn't."

Beelzebub, clearly trying to hold back laughter, joined in. "No, he was. He's totally into you!"

"You should ask him out!" Hastur said through his own laughter.

Beelzebub could no longer hold herself back, and burst out laughing as well. "Oh god, yeah! Crowley and the chess club boy! A match made in heaven!"

"It would be a pretty good joke," Hastur said, "He'd probably fall for it."

Crowley shook his head. "I'm not gonna do that, guys, that's just a dick move."

Beelzebub rolled her eyes. "Since when do you care about that? C'mon, you should do it. It'll be funny."

"Why are you taking Hastur's side? I really thought you were better than this, Beezy."

"What made you think that?" She replied.

"Is this going to be one of those things that you guys are going to bother me about until I do it?" Crowley asked.

Hastur nodded, and Crowley sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll do it, but you guys are still dicks."

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and they left their seats to head to class.

\---

Crowley stepped into English class right as the bell rang.

"You're late." The teacher said. Crowley had never seen her before. She must have been new that year.

"I'm not late," He said, "It's not late til after you call role." He sat down in the last available seat, which happened to be right next to Hastur.

The teacher shot Crowley a glare, then picked up and squinted at her role sheet. "Hastur LaVista? Really?" She glared at her students. "You guys can't expect me to fall for this crap."

In response, Hastur wordlessly stood up, and showed the woman his driver's license.

"... Very well." She said, handing it back to him. "Let's get this done with, then. Alright… Anthony? Anthony Crowley?"

"Right here, and just Crowley, please." He replied.

"You need to take your sunglasses off." She said.

"Afraid I can't. My eyes are terribly sensitive to the light." They weren't, but this being far from the first time he's said it, the lie came out as naturally as any true statement would.

"Do you have a doctor's note, Mr. Crowley?" The teacher asked nonetheless.

"I'll get one." He ended the discussion with a dismissive gesture. He got the feeling he was not going to get along with this teacher. Not that there were many he did get along with.

She continued calling role. Crowley didn't recognize most of the names. Then, she paused.

"Az… Um, I'm not sure how to say that. Last name Fell?"

"Here!" The voice came from directly behind Crowley. _Oh no._ "The first name is Aziraphale."

The teacher nodded and marked him present.

Crowley glanced at Hastur, who was typing frantically on his phone while looking like he was once again ready to burst out laughing.

Crowley's phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked it, and sure enough, it was a text from Hastur.

'now's ur chance', it read.

Crowley, ready for all this to be over with, tore a piece of paper from his notebook, wrote his phone number, and passed it back to Aziraphale as soon as the teacher looked away.

_Thank God that's done,_ he thought, fully expecting to be soundly rejected.

\---

Aziraphale stared at the little piece of paper for a few seconds before it fully sunk in.

It had a phone number written on it. Underneath that, the words "text me -crowley".

Blushing, he gently folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

After school, he met up with his friends, Michael (head of the Glee club and 3-time Quiz Bowl champion) and Gabriel (who had starred in nearly every school play since 8th grade), as he always did. As one of the few members of their friend group who could drive, Gabriel was his and Michael's ride home.

While walking through the parking lot to Gabriel's car, Aziraphale pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to his friends.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"About what, exactly?" Michael responded.

"Well, should I text him?"

Gabriel shook his head. "You'd better not. That Crowley is one of Beelzebub's friends, you know."

Aziraphale began speaking as they reached the car, "Just because he's friends with your ex-girlfriend doesn't mean-"

"She was NOT my girlfriend." Gabriel interrupted, sternly correcting Aziraphale. He unlocked the doors, and they got in the car. "And I'm not just saying this because of what happened between us. She deals with a bad crowd. You don't want to get mixed up in that."

"Maybe he's trying to sell you drugs," Michael suggested.

"He's a drug dealer?" Aziraphale asked.

"I don't know," They admitted, "But he seems like the type. Right, Gabriel?"

"I don't know either," he said, "I don't think so. They don't actually go around, actively trying to get good kids addicted, you know. If he was dealing he'd know a kid like Az wouldn't buy anything and would just turn him in. I think he really was flirting with you, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale found himself blushing again. "I think I'm going to text him."

"Aziraphale! Haven't you been listening to a word we just said?" Michael scolded him.

"I have! But I'm… Curious. He's kind of handsome, too."

Gabriel sighed heavily. "Look, Aziraphale, I know we can't tell you what to do. But I can tell you, this is a bad idea."

Aziraphale nodded. Gabriel and Michael continued trying to talk him out of it, but Aziraphale's mind was already made up.

\---

When Crowley got home, he was surprised by two things. The first was his phone vibrating- usually no one texted him until later in the night. The second, and likely more important, was the child watching TV in the living room.

He did know the child, which was better than the alternative, but that didn't mean he was happy about it. It was his 11 year old cousin Adam.

"What are you doing here?" Crowley said, and his phone went off again, then a third time. He just ignored it.

"You didn't hear? My parents are on vacation, so I'm staying with you guys for a while."

"Seriously?" Crowley groaned, frustrated. "Where are you even going to stay? We don't have a guest room."

"Your room." Adam replied matter-of-factly.

"What? No. Why can't you just sleep on the couch?"

"Why can't you?"

Crowley's phone vibrated one more time. _Okay, this might be important._ "Ugh, fine. Just don't touch my computer." He said, resigned, and walked to his room. He shut the door- he wasn't sure when Adam would be done watching TV, but he was going to keep his privacy until then, at least.

He pulled his phone out, and read the texts he had been sent.

'Hello, Crowley!'

'This is Aziraphale.'

'You gave me your number in English class, right?'

'I don't suppose you've changed your mind about joining the chess club?'

"Oh, dammit." Crowley said, out loud. He was really counting on Aziraphale not bothering to text him.

What could he say to him? He couldn't just admit it was a joke… But then, why couldn't he? Better yet, why not just ghost him? Beelzebub and Hastur weren't there. He could just tell them Aziraphale never texted him and they wouldn't bother him about it again, right?

He thought about it, and for some reason, just didn't want to hurt Aziraphale's feelings.

He felt himself blushing again. Why was he blushing? He barely knew this guy… Although, he was sort of cute.

_... Maybe asking him out won't be such a bad idea._

Crowley sent three texts.

'hey azi'

'i think you're pretty cute'

'wanna go to dinner with me? wednesday night'

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I'll be able to continue this soon. I got some good-ass plans y'all ='D


End file.
